


Waking Up Next To You

by VampAmber



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Caring Sam, Castiel Has Nightmares, Castiel in the Bunker, Dean Has Self-Worth Issues, Dean in Denial, Emotional Constipation, Fluff, Human Castiel, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Mild Angst, No Gadreel (Supernatural), One Shot, Sam Knows, Sam Ships It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 03:50:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11523942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampAmber/pseuds/VampAmber
Summary: The first time Dean woke up next to Cas, he was too confused to do anything for a few minutes. He’d known that he’d gone to bed alone, and that Cas had his own room in the bunker with his own bed, so why Cas was randomly in his bed was a complete mystery. But mystery or not, there lay Cas, snoring lightly and clutching at his pillow like his life depended on it. Dean actually would’ve been glad that the guy was finally getting some decent sleep if it weren’t for the bizarre fact that he was in the wrong bed.





	Waking Up Next To You

**Author's Note:**

> These are the things I do instead of working on the fics I'm supposed to be working on. ^_^

The first time Dean woke up next to Cas, he was too confused to do anything for a few minutes. He’d known that he’d gone to bed alone, and that Cas had his own room in the bunker with his own bed, so why Cas was randomly in his bed was a complete mystery. But mystery or not, there lay Cas, snoring lightly and clutching at his pillow like his life depended on it. Dean actually would’ve been glad that the guy was finally getting some decent sleep if it weren’t for the bizarre fact that he was in the wrong bed.

Ever since the angels fell, Cas had been living at the bunker with Sam and Dean. He’d also been having horrible nightmares every single night. Wake up everybody in a five mile radius with the volume of the screams level nightmares. The brothers had tried everything they could think of in an attempt to help him through it, but nothing had worked and they had run out of ideas almost a week ago. Chamomile tea didn’t help at all, over the counter sleep aides only made him groggy the next day but did nothing about the nightmares, and the white noise app Sam had downloaded onto his phone only helped Cas fall asleep faster but didn’t affect his dreaming. Dean had even tried getting him drunk at one point, but when that only made the nightmares worse, that plan was vetoed for the rest of ever.

Sam and Dean had started taking turns attempting to comfort the ex-angel each night, getting up and heading to his room as soon as the screaming started. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was their only option at this point. But once Dean's brain woke up enough for him to think, he realized that he hadn’t heard a single peep the entire night. Maybe Cas just needed the security of somebody close by?

He stretched and sat up as carefully as he could, trying to not wake up Cas. The dark circles under Cas’ eyes had their own dark circles at this point, so Dean wanted him to sleep for as long as absolutely possible. He was about to get out of bed to go start on breakfast when Cas grabbed at him in his sleep, whimpering just a little. But that whimper was enough, so Dean settled back down. He just hoped the guy wasn’t a sleep-cuddler. It would be uncomfortable enough as is when the guy woke up; Dean didn’t want the added awkwardness of a compromising position as well.

Dean reached for his cell phone and sent a quick text to Sam to let him know he’d need to make breakfast this morning. When Sam texted back asking why, Dean paused for a minute, trying to figure out the least embarrassing way to phrase his current predicament. He finally settled on “ _Long story. Tell you later. Cas is here._ ”

But he should’ve known better, because Sam was poking his head into Dean’s room less than two minutes later, curiosity written plainly on his face. “What the hell, Dean?” He asked, confused at what he was seeing.

Dean let out a drawn out “Shh” and indicated the still sleeping Cas with a point of his finger. “I woke up like this,” he whispered, relieved that his brother’s loud voice hadn’t woken the ex-angel up. “Dunno when or how he got here, but he didn’t have any nightmares last night, so it’s not a bad thing apparently.”

“Yeah, he didn’t, did he?” Sam whispered back. Dean shook his head. “Maybe this was all he needed?”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Dean said, still whispering. “Like, sleeping next to one of us feels comforting or something.”

“Or maybe it’s just you?” Sam suggested.

Dean forced back the blush that suddenly tried to bleed through his skin. “Why would you think that?” He stuttered, barely able to remember to keep it to a whisper.

Sam just gave him a knowing smirk. “I’ll go make breakfast,” he whispered and then he was gone.

Dean let out a tortured sigh and put his head in his hands. Sam was wrong, obviously. Dean knew he was nothing special. He may have been the ex-angel's best friend, or at least he assumed he was, but he’d still failed Cas. Repeatedly, over the years. The fact that he was in Dean's bed meant nothing. Right?

He let out another, softer sigh, and turned to look down at the sleeping ex-angel, only to be met with worried blue eyes staring back at him instead. Not knowing what else to do, Dean said “Good morning” out of habit.

“I apologize for coming in here last night while you were asleep, Dean,” Cas said quickly. “I was so exhausted, and just couldn’t handle another nightmare again. I came in to ask for your help, to try something else to keep them away, and when I saw you were already unconscious, I…” He trailed off, looking embarrassed.

“Well, uh,” Dean said, starting to feel embarrassed as well. “At least you didn’t have a nightmare last night. So there’s that.”

“I really am sorry, Dean,” Cas said, looking and sounding like a kicked puppy. It made Dean’s heart hurt. Had Cas been taking lessons from Sam on how to do the perfect puppy dog eyes or something?

“Cas, it’s okay. It was a bit weird waking up next to someone when I wasn’t expecting to, but like I said, you didn’t have any nightmares. So,” Dean paused, struggling a little with what he was about to suggest, since it was going against every bit of hyper-masculinity his father had ever shoved down his throat before the bastard died. “So if it’s helping that much, you can keep doing it. I guess. I mean, if you don’t mind, obviously.”

“You would be willing to share a bed with me?” Cas looked up at him with as much awe as if Dean had offered to buy him a small country. Every lecture John had given him about how he had to be the most manly he could possibly be flew right out the window at that look, and Dean all but literally melted.

“Yeah, of course Cas. I’d do anything to help you.” He wasn’t expecting the hug that Cas pounced onto him, but after a moment’s hesitation, he hugged back just as hard. He tried not to think about just how much he’d meant that ‘anything’, because at this point he didn’t want to risk ruining Cas’ happiness with his own mental freak outs.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas mumbled into his shoulder. He squeezed a little harder, making Dean start to blush.

“Uh… beats waking up to your screams every night, at least,” Dean tried to joke, wanting to diffuse the potential chick flick moment before it went any further. Instead, he’d put his foot directly in his mouth, do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars. He winced as he felt Cas stiffen just slightly, and quickly said “We should probably go get breakfast now,” to try, pathetically, to smooth over his stupid mouth with the stupid brain attached. And of course he failed at that, as well. Not his day, and he’d only just woke up. Great.

Cas pulled back and nodded, his happiness no longer quite to the small country level. Now it was more in the slightly beat up used car area. “Yes, breakfast sounds good,” he said softly, and it took everything in Dean to not actually hit himself in the head repeatedly for being the one that popped Cas’ happy bubble.

And the extreme awkwardness at breakfast only made things worse, from where Dean was sitting. Cas was eating quietly, and while he usually wasn’t all that talkative, especially in the morning, it was obvious to everyone in the bunker that this was a different kind of silence. Dean was also quiet, though his was mostly from guilt. And once the two had sat down at the table, Sam had been giving Dean all kinds of looks. They’d started as teasing, knowing smirks like before, but once they’d all started eating and the awkwardness was so heavy it hurt, the smirks turned into silent accusations. Dean knew this was all his fault, him and his shitty way with anything feelings related, so he couldn’t do anything but accept his brother’s deserved condemnation.

When breakfast was over, Cas spoke for the first time since coming to the kitchen, offering to help clean up. Sam politely declined and shooed him off to his room to relax. When Dean tried to follow him to head to his own bedroom, Sam had grabbed him by the collar of his flannel and told him in no uncertain terms that Cas deserved rest but he deserved kitchen duty. Dean grumbled a few choice insults under his breath but started gathering up the dirty dishes as Sam filled the sink.

Sam waited until Dean was elbow deep in soapy water before he launched his assault. “So, how’d you screw up this time?”

Dean huffed, loudly. “What makes you think it was my fault?”

Sam gave him one of his vast arsenal of bitch faces. “Seriously?” He asked, adding a glare to the bitch face. If looks could kill…

Dean sighed. He’d be the first to admit he was a… tad emotionally constipated at times, but apparently Sam had gotten everything he lacked in that area on top of his own. The boy just lived to talk about feelings and crap. “Okay, I think I insulted him or something.” He explained what had happened, conveniently leaving out some of the more embarrassing parts. When he finished, his little brother rolled his eyes and let out a huge sigh.

“You know, you really can be an inconsiderate dick sometimes,” Sam said.

“What? I don't even know how I fucked up,” Dean tried to defend himself, but it was feeble at best. It had something to do with that stupid comment about the screams, that was obvious, but he wasn’t sure why Cas had reacted like he did. A little bit insulted would’ve made some sense, but the guy had freaking deflated.

“You’re doing him this huge favor, then you belittle it by making it just about shutting him up at night,” Sam said, sounding way more irritated than Dean thought he had reason to be. But he was right. “You are so dense,” his younger brother muttered.

“I… I didn’t mean it that way,” Dean said softly.

“Cas is still new to this human stuff, and not just actually being a human but being around them at all, Dean,” Sam lectured. “He’s only been on Earth for a few years, so he probably can’t tell the difference yet between what you mean and what you fuck up by saying instead. You hurt his feelings, and knowing him, he probably sees himself as a burden now. An inconvenient annoyance.”

Dean hung his head during the entire thing, his guilt growing quicker than usual, which is saying something since he was probably the king of guilt issues (just because you acknowledge it doesn't make it any easier to fix it, as he knew far too well). “I should go apologize to him,” Dean almost whispered.

Sam nodded. “You should go apologize to him.” He pushed Dean aside, handing him a towel. “I’ll finish in here,” he offered.

Dean dried his arms off and headed towards Cas’ room, hoping against hope that he didn’t screw it up even worse when he tried to apologize. He knocked lightly on the door, and gulped when he heard the muffled “come in” from the other side. He was constantly screwing things up with Cas. He couldn't let this be yet another misstep in that depressingly long line of constant missteps.

“Hey Cas,” he said as he entered the room.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said like always. He was sprawled out on the bed in a weird position, and had been reading a book until Dean had shown up. Ever since losing his grace, he had developed the random habit of sitting strangely, and while Dean never mentioned it, it reminded him of that broken future version of Cas. Sometimes that hurt so bad from just seeing it that Dean had to leave the room, or at least look away. Seeing him like that now only made him terrified that Cas might still end up that way, minus the Croatoan plague parts, and that it would once again be all Dean’s fault. This would definitely be one of the times where Dean would be leaving the room as fast as possible without it being obvious, but he had shit to do and running away scared from memories of his own failures wasn’t going to get it done.

“I’m an idiot and I’m sorry for saying stupid shit,” he rushed out, trying to get it over with as quickly as possible in case he had to start picking up the pieces. From which person, he wasn’t sure.

Cas scrunched up his face in confusion, and for some reason that made Dean’s stomach flutter a little. Before Dean had the chance to figure out why on earth that would happen, Cas spoke. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Dean.”

Uncomfortable introspection some other time it is, then. “The thing about you only sleeping in my bed to shut you up at night. I made you sound like a burden, and you’re not. Not even close.” Thank you, Sammy, for almost writing that apology yourself. “I was trying to make a joke, and it kinda failed hard. So, I’m really sorry Cas. I really do wanna help you out here.”

Dean was flooded with relief when Cas smiled at him, a real, proper smile. He never did smile that much when he was still an angel, which was a shame because it looked so good on him. Almost made the guy light up. His stomach fluttered a little more at those thoughts, so Dean shook his head to clear it. Cas was looking at him with a strange expression on his face, as if he were trying to tap into the grace he no longer had to read Dean’s mind, and that was probably his cue to leave. “So yeah, now that that’s cleared up, I guess I’ll, uh… see you tonight?” Make a joke out of it, so nobody can tell how confused you are inside. That was the way to do it right now.

Cas smiled even bigger, the whole room lighting up from it, and it made Dean’s brain go into minor panic mode. “Thank you again, Dean,” Cas said, his voice filled with gratitude.

“No problem, Cas,” Dean replied as he started to edge towards the door. “I’ll just let you get back to your book, then.” Cas nodded and Dean practically bolted from the room. He ended up spending the rest of the morning in the firing range, doing everything in his power to avoid thinking. Stupid stomach flutters, they obviously meant nothing. Right?

Lunch was almost as awkward as breakfast, but only for Dean. Though thankfully, since Sam and Cas spent the entire time talking about the book Cas had been reading that Sam had lent him, Dean didn't look out of place by not contributing to the conversation. And if either of them noticed Dean’s silence as anything else, it was never mentioned. Even after the meal was over and Dean was once again stuck on kitchen duty by Sam’s decree.

The rest of the day was spent doing what Dean had unofficially dubbed ‘Bobby work’. While Garth was holding his own pretty well in his new position, the fact that the bunker came equipped with hundreds if not thousands of books of lore that had never been available to the hunting community before meant that whenever the brothers weren’t out on their own jobs, they’d answer questions and do research for the ones that were. A few hundred lives had already been saved because of the information in those books, so even Dean couldn’t complain about doing the Bobby work, no matter how restless he got. And right now, he was extra restless. Cas was off in the corner, reading the books that were in languages neither of the brothers knew, completely oblivious to the glare fest Sam kept giving Dean for fidgeting and tapping his feet incessantly.

When it was finally time to head to bed, Dean did everything he could to prolong the inevitable. He helped Sam put the books away, and even went so far as to gather up the empty coffee cups and beer bottles and took them to the kitchen instead of leaving them til morning like they usually did. He had Cas go on ahead while he finished, with the small hope that maybe it wouldn’t feel so weird if he was already asleep when Dean got into bed.

But, as with most other things, Dean wasn’t anywhere near as lucky as he would’ve liked. When he arrived in his bedroom after having run out of legitimate sounding ways to procrastinate, he was met with Cas, sitting on the bed waiting for him. Cas was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, and even though it was the same type of sleepwear he’d been wearing ever since they’d had to talk him out of sleeping naked, it still made Dean’s heart skip a beat. Had Cas always affected him this way? Dean ignored the slowly growing louder voice in his head that told him yes, and grabbed a pair of his own pajama pants from a drawer. He usually just slept in his boxers, but that had upped the weirdness factor that morning by way too much for Dean to want to try it again. He held up the pants and mumbled “Be right back” before heading to the bathroom to change.

He was dressed in less than a minute, but the bathroom gave him brand new procrastination options. He took his time brushing his teeth, and even used mouthwash. He drew the line at washing his face like some teenage girl, though. He trudged back to his room, and repressed a groan when Cas was still sitting on the bed like he was waiting for Dean or something.

“Thank you again for this, Dean,” Cas said as soon as Dean walked in. “I greatly appreciate it.”

“Like I said, Cas, it’s no problem.” Dean was actually trying to not blush. Cas thanked him for stuff all the time, way bigger stuff than just half a bed, and it never affected him this bad ( _yes it did but you just ignored it_ , that pesky voice reminded him). “So, uh…” Dean started, in hopes to shut his brain up, “how do we go about… doing this?”

“Oh, I assumed we could just take the sides we had last night?” Cas tilted his head in confusion, and those stomach flutters were seriously starting to get harder to deny.

“Yeah, that’ll work,” Dean said, feeling more awkward than he ever remembered having ever felt in pretty much his entire life, and he wasn’t sure if that was much of an exaggeration. Cas got under the covers on his side, and Dean reluctantly got in on his own. How in the hell had he got to a point in his life where Cas had his own side of Dean’s bed? He felt the bed shift slightly as Cas tried to find a comfortable position, but he couldn’t convince himself to move. He was on the far side of the bed, about two inches from falling off if he wasn’t careful, because the weirdness of Cas being in his freaking bed was still a bit too much. “You good over there?” He asked, trying to not let his anxiety leak into his voice.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas replied, already sounding sleepy. “Thank you.”

Dean’s heart thumped hard, and he winced. “No problem,” he said back, starting to worry he sounded too much like a broken record. He was still in his too afraid to relax position a few minutes later when he heard the ( _adorable_ ) soft snores coming from Cas. Only then was he able to shift into a slightly more comfortable position himself and fall asleep.

Dean woke up the next morning with something warm by his side. He smiled happily at how nice that felt, enjoying it for a few moments before remembering who that warm body was. He opened up his eyes and saw Cas snuggled up next to him. They weren’t actually cuddling, but a lot of different parts were touching. The fact that they were in the middle of the bed told Dean that they’d both shifted towards each other during the night, not just Cas. He was bright red in seconds, and prayed to any deity listening that Sam didn’t come in to check on Cas.

Dean was about to ease his way out of bed to avoid further embarrassment ( _and confusing feelings_ , his cruel brain supplied unwanted), when Cas moved in his sleep to settle on his side. The entire length of his body was now pressed up to Dean’s side, and his fight or flight instincts were kicking in hard, screaming at him to run. But at least those same deities that were keeping Sam away were kind enough to not further punish him by adding any morning wood into the mix.

Dean knew that if he moved at all, it’d wake Cas up, and Cas needed sleep, but the longer he had Cas’ body heat pressed up against him, the stronger the urge to panic was. He was unfortunately starting to get a vague idea of what he was repressing ( _way more than vague_ , that damn voice taunted, making Dean start to wonder if he was finally going nuts), and the longer he felt Cas’ soft breath drifting towards his neck, the worse the idea of it coming unrepressed right now was. He tried moving just a tiny bit, but it only caused the sleeping ex-angel to let out a small, frustrated whine. Well, so much for that plan.

Dean spent the longest twenty-five minutes of his life waiting for Cas to either move or wake up. Maybe Dean should’ve been praying for an easy exit instead of an absent nosey brother? When Cas finally rolled back over to his other side, Dean let out a sigh of relief. He started to crawl out of the bed as gently as he could, because his bladder had been poking at him for almost ten minutes and did not feel like being ignored any longer, when he froze at Cas’ yawn.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas said slowly, still sounding half asleep. Start the day with stomach flutters, that’s the way to do it according to Dean’s body. Cas sat up, rubbing at his eyes and looking generally adorable, when he frowned at Dean. “Did you not sleep well, Dean? My being here didn’t disturb you, did it?”

Only at Cas’ worried questions did Dean realize he was frowning about the stomach flutters. “Naw, I’m good Cas. Just gotta take a leak.” Ahh, all the smoothness of a Winchester that isn’t even slightly smooth at the moment. He made a hasty retreat to the bathroom, berating himself the entire way. It was getting way too hard to deny it any more. As impossible as it sounded, he was starting to develop feelings for the ex-angel ( _‘develop’ stopped years ago, dumbass_ his brain reminded him). He probably wouldn’t hate that nagging voice in his head so much if it weren't always right.

Okay, Dean was an adult. He could handle a little crush, and he could ignore his brain giggling over how inaccurate ‘little’ was in this situation. He could handle this. He totally could. And that was exactly why Dean snuck into the kitchen after he finished up in the bathroom, grabbed a couple of Sam’s granola bars and a bottle of water, and poked his head into his room where Cas was still working his way through the waking up process and told him he’d be skipping breakfast in favor of extra shooting practice. “Getting a little rusty with my off hand,” he used as an excuse, and left before Cas could ask any questions. Grown adults can hide from the guy they have a crush on. They totally could.

Dean’s stomach had been grumbling in protest at the lack of proper food for almost an hour by the time Sam came to drag him away for lunch. “I’m not hungry,” Dean tried to protest, right as his stomach let out the loudest growl yet. Dean just glared down at his traitorous midsection.

“Come on, Dean. I thought you were always hungry. You and Cas have another lovers’ spat or something?” Sam said as he actually started to physically drag Dean away from the room containing the shooting range.

Dean couldn’t stop the blush from spreading across his face. At Sam’s abrupt laugh, Dean sent him a full on death glare. “Not. One. Word,” he threatened his younger brother. Which was the wrong response, judging by the sudden look of shock Sam gave him.

“Wait, did you guys finally…” Sam started to ask before Dean cut him off.

“No! Nothing like that. I haven’t… there was nothing… he doesn’t… wouldn’t...” Dean could tell he had to be beet red at this point. There would never be a time where he’d be ready for this conversation.

“So just you coming out of denial, then?” Sam asked as they walked. When he noticed Dean looking in every direction at once, almost as if they were on a hunt, he knew exactly what was up and reassured him. “Don’t worry. He’s already in the kitchen, making the salad.”

Dean visibly relaxed, but not by very much. “Was it that obvious?”

“Only to everybody but you and him. You moved past eye fucking to tender eye love making ages ago,” Sam teased him. “But seriously, what are you going to do about it, now that you’re finally willing to acknowledge it?”

“Nothing,” Dean grumbled. “He deserves a billion times better, and it's not like it’s even mutual or anything. I’m not gonna make him uncomfortable and make him leave. I’ll just deal with it, okay?”

“Still in denial,” Sam muttered under his breath. So Dean could actually hear, Sam said “Yeah, sure, you do that. And since you ducked out on breakfast, you get kitchen duty again.”

Dean groaned loudly as the two entered the kitchen. “Are you okay, Dean?” Cas looked up from the bowl of way too much green that he was putting together. He sounded concerned, and started looking concerned when Dean froze, mid-step. “Dean?”

“Oh, umm, I’m okay,” Dean stuttered out. As much as he didn’t want to be here right now, wasn’t ready to be here, he wanted Cas to not be worried more. Unless it was a choice between Cas and Sam, he’d been putting Cas first for so long that he couldn’t imagine how he didn’t figure this all out sooner ( _because DENIAL_ his brain supplied). “I guess I was just hungrier than I thought?”

“Oh,” Cas said, already looking and sounding completely relieved. “Well, everything else is ready because Sam fixed it. I only have to finish with the carrots, and the salad will be done, too. Then we can eat.” He gave Dean a smile he didn’t deserve and went back to grating.

Sam was nice enough to let Dean sit while he brought everything to the table, and Cas brought out the salad right as Sam finished. Dean was silent and kept his gaze on his plate the entire meal, but he could tell that Cas was pausing the conversation every so often just to send him a worried glance. Great, he had only figured this out a few hours ago and already he was screwing over Cas.

Dean was pushing around the last few stray scraps of carrot on his plate with his fork (he’d eaten two helpings of the salad, even though it tasted exactly like rabbit food, because he didn’t want to hurt Cas’ feelings), when he felt a big hand clap him on the shoulder. It startled him enough to make him jump in his seat. “I’m good in here, Dean. You’re off the hook, so go do something to relax or whatever,” Sam said in that touchy feely everybody it’s time for a group hug voice of his. If he actually tried to hug Dean right now, there would be bloodshed.

“Gee, thanks,” Dean said sarcastically. He pushed his chair out and got up, avoiding looking at Cas the entire time. He locked his bedroom door behind him, not wanting to deal with anybody right now. He needed to do something about this, needed to fix it so that he’d stop hurting Cas. The guy had enough to deal with, he didn’t deserve some messed up hunter swooning all over him or whatever. But listing all the reasons why Cas didn’t deserve to be stuck with someone as awful as him wasn’t really getting him anywhere, so he grabbed a paperback from his bedside table and lost himself in Vonnegut’s words.

When Sam came knocking a few hours later to let him know that dinner was almost ready, Dean sent him away. He doubted he could keep anything down even if he tried, at this point. Normally, rereading his favorite book helped him forget about his problems at least a little (not that he was a nerd like Sam, he just had a few books that he really liked), but apparently some problems were just too damn big. Sam came back with a sandwich a half hour later, and Dean took it if just to keep the therapy moose off his case. He managed half of it before he started feeling sick again. If he was just better at dealing with his damn issues, he wouldn’t be so messed up, and he wouldn’t be hurting Cas so much. But no, he was stuck this way.

When it was finally late enough that he could justify going to bed, Dean threw on a pair of pajama bottoms and got under the covers. He left the door unlocked for Cas, for whenever he showed up. But sleep was not happening, and finally the door creaked open. Dean froze, trying to decide if he should pretend to be asleep or not. “Dean, are you awake?” Damn it, Cas sounded really worried.

“Yeah, I’m still awake,” Dean said, turning over so that he could actually see the ex-angel. Cas was still standing in the open doorway, fidgeting nervously, which seemed so unlike him. Dean had done that, it was his fault. Worry finally won out over his sulking. “Hey, you okay, Cas?”

“I seem to have done something wrong, but I'm not sure as to what exactly I did,” Cas stammered out. “Was it the sleeping arrangement? You were fine about it last night, but when you woke up…” Cas trailed off, looking lost and broken. Dean had to remind himself to breathe, and almost had to hold back tears. Shit…

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Cas. I promise. I’m just… I’m just an ass hole sometimes, and today happened to be a very long sometime. This was one hundred percent on me and me alone.” Dean had messed up everything so bad, but he hoped it was still at least somewhat fixable.

“But you skipped breakfast and dinner, and seemed so depressed at lunch. I just assumed that since our sleeping arrangement was the only thing that had changed, that…” Cas desperately tried to explain, before Dean cut him off.

“No, Cas,” Dean said, for once trying his hardest to sound commanding with him, even though he always tried to avoid anything that smacked of bossing him around. He had to be strong here, so he wouldn’t break Cas any further. “I meant it when I said this was all me. I have some issues right now, stupid stuff that I don’t wanna talk about, that I just need to work through. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or hurt you, and I’m sorry for that.” Dean sighed. “I never want to hurt you, Cas, but I just keep on doing it.”

“Dean, I’m so sorry,” Cas said before rushing over to envelop the hunter in a hug. Not exactly the reaction he was expecting, but there was no way he was going to risk screwing up further by not returning it. “Is there anything I can do to help? You do so much for me, and I feel like I can never repay you enough. And now you're torturing yourself because you think you’re hurting me, and that’s just… it’s too much, Dean. I want to help you.”

Dean felt wetness on his shoulder. “Cas, are you… crying?”

Cas pulled back, rubbing at his eyes, and Dean had to stop himself from kissing him, from trying to smooth away the sadness by showing him how much he loved him. But that would scare him off, ruin everything, hurt and confuse him way more than he already was. _Or maybe not?_ His mind suggested. But no, things never went that well for Dean. Never. So instead, he just placed his hand on Cas’ shoulder and squeezed affectionately. Platonic affection. That was safe.

“I’m sorry,” Cas apologized, wiping his eyes with the hem of his shirt, giving Dean a glimpse of a flat, strong chest that he never would have expected to be so attracted to. “I just… I wish that I still had my grace so that I could fix things for you, make everything better. You do so much for me, and for Sam, and for everybody, but you never do things for yourself. I wish I could help you feel better Dean, help you work through your issues. You deserve to feel better.”

“I…” Cas really felt that way? “Thanks, Cas, I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind,” Dean said softly. The denial may have only lifted earlier this morning, but he was starting to feel like he was in love with Cas. Not just crush, but real, honest to god love. And that just made everything scarier and even more awkward. He ran his hand through Cas’ hair without thinking, then pulled back before anything else could happen. Cas just looked soothed, not confused or disgusted, so apparently it was subtle enough. But the longer he looked at the ex-angel, the more he wanted to kiss him, and that just couldn’t happen. “So, uh… I guess now that all that’s taken care, it’s time to hit the hay?”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Dean?” Cas asked.

_As long as you’re here with me._ “Yeah, I’m good Cas,” he said out loud. He patted the pillow next to him, the one Cas had been using the past two nights. “C’mon,” he said gently, and Cas obeyed. Dean slid back under the covers on his side while Cas got into bed.

“From now on, if you need my help with anything, just ask,” Cas said as he faced Dean.

“Sure,” Dean replied. He had to hold in the squeak when Cas pulled him in for a hug. Hugs were okay when standing or even sitting, but when lying down they were less hug and more cuddle and holy crap Cas was cuddling him but he didn’t understand what he was doing and… Dean tried to take a few deep breaths to calm down the panic in his brain.

“Dean?” Cas said, hugging tighter. It was heaven and hell at the same time, and Dean never wanted to let go, and… “You’re breathing odd. Is something wrong?”

“No, no, I’m good,” Dean said as he pulled away. He felt empty now, and a little colder than he should. “Just tired,” he said lamely, but Cas bought it.

“I’ll let you get to sleep, then,” Cas said softly. “Goodnight Dean.”

“Goodnight Cas,” Dean said just as softly. _I love you._ This was going to be a really long night.

But for once, the universe took pity on the elder Winchester, who fell asleep quickly. Though going off of how exhausting all the self-imposed stress had been, it was probably closer to passing out than falling asleep. But either way, he’d gotten a fair amount of unconsciousness, so he was happy.

What made Dean not so happy was the position he found himself in when he woke up. They had parted from their little cuddle session before heading off to their own sides to sleep, but when Dean opened his eyes, all he could see was Cas’ face, and feel his arms tucked snugly around him. It was a repeat performance from last night, only way closer. And as much as Dean wanted to run, to hide from Cas and from feelings in general, he knew this might be his only chance to experience this. He watched Cas as he took deep, even breaths. When the guy was asleep, he looked younger. It was like all the worries he had made him look older. And the urge to kiss him was painful to suppress with him so damn close.

There was no denying it now ( _finally!_ ), Dean was in love with Cas. And that thought was enough to shatter the hunter’s heart, because he could never have this. He could never have Cas waking up like this because this was where he wanted to be, not just because it kept away the nightmares and helped him get enough sleep. He would never be able to wake up like this, then lean over and give the ex-angel a kiss to wake him up like he so desperately wanted to do right now. Having it be so close yet impossible broke a little something inside Dean, and he couldn’t hold in the small sound of pain.

Which was of course what woke Cas up. “Dean?” He asked, not showing any sign of awkwardness at their position. He pulled one of his arms from Dean’s waist and put his hand on Dean's face. It was such a loving gesture that Dean let out another sob. “Dean, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Please tell me,” Cas said, starting to sound panicked. “I can go get your brother and we can fix it.”

“Don’t,” Dean said, grabbing Cas’ hand. “Don’t leave.” And here he was, ruining one of the only good things he had, just because he was stupid. “Please don’t leave.” He felt a tear slide down his cheek.

Cas turned his hand to grip Dean’s. “I would never leave you, Dean, not any more,” he promised, interlacing their fingers. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“This, I…” Dean didn't even know where to start. He felt more tears sliding down to join the first. Apparently when you let that one little bit through, you get a freaking avalanche. “Cas, I…” And then he broke completely. “I love you,” he whispered. He tried to move so that he could escape the inevitable aftermath, but Cas held him in place.

“Dean,” Cas started to say.

“No, Cas… shit, I’m sorry,” Dean babbled, words flowing out of him now without permission. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to say anything and scare you off. I didn't want to make you feel bad or anything, or make things awkward, but now they are and just… god, I’m sorry, I promise I’ll leave you alone or whatever else you want. I screwed everything up, just like always, and I am so fucking sorry, I swear I am.”

“Dean, shh,” Cas said, before putting his finger on Dean's lips. The move seemed so unlike him that it stopped Dean in his verbal tracks. “I love you too, Dean,” he said softly, smiling at Dean like everything in the world was perfect.

“You do?” Dean asked, stunned. Cas nodded. “Like in love, right, not just brotherly family love?” Cas nodded again, and suddenly Dean was crying for a different reason. “For real?” He asked, because he still couldn’t believe it.

“Of course, Dean,” Cas said, moving his hand to brush it across Dean’s cheek.

“Cas,” Dean let out as a sigh, before leaning in for a kiss. He gave Cas plenty of time to back out, but he never did and then their lips met and Dean forgot the universe even existed. They moved even closer, bodies pressed together as hands lovingly caressed anything they could reach. When they pulled apart, Dean smiled, feeling happier than he could ever remember feeling. “I love you, Cas,” he said as he peppered kisses across the ex-angel's face. “I love you so fucking much.”

Cas’ laughter was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever heard. “I love you too, Dean.”

~~~

Sam smiled as he read the text message from his brother. “ _You’re on your own for breakfast. And if you interrupt us, I can and will kill you._ ” Took them damn well long enough. 


End file.
